Rising

“I hate fish,” said Rebert, pushing his portion around on his plate. Its goggle eyes stared back at him reproachfully.

Across the table, Sally frowned. “Nag’tak phlth cnguisph wakti,” she said.

“Listen to your sister, dear,” said Mom. “Honey, why don’t you take him tomorrow? I think a swim would do him good.”

Dad gurgled and dripped on the flatware.

Outside, the waves lapped at the front door. Next door, only the roof was visible anymore. The lights from the houses were reflected in the water, shifting with the ripples as though the true lights were moving beneath the surface.